


He Should Have

by JaeJaeBees



Series: Thomas needs to get a grip [1]
Category: The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, F/M, M/M, Prequel, i actually suck at angst, sad stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-04
Updated: 2015-10-04
Packaged: 2018-04-24 16:52:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4927528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaeJaeBees/pseuds/JaeJaeBees
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thomas asks Newt to be his date to the party, but Newt already has a date and Thomas drowns himself in self loathing and feels.</p>
            </blockquote>





	He Should Have

**Author's Note:**

> So, I was asked to write an angsty prequel to my other Newt/Thomas fic about Thomas finding out that Newt was dating someone. I had imagined that person to be Gally, so I went with that. I really hope this doesn't suck as bad as I feel like it does. It's been so long since I've written angsty stuff...

Thomas could stare at Newt forever, he was sure of it. So long as the other boy never realized what he was doing. Now that would be embarrassing.

Newt had chosen not to sit with his group of friends for a while, finding that reading his book was much more important than socializing with the morons he and Thomas called friends. Now, the tall British boy sat against the base of a tree just out of earshot.

Thomas tried his best not to stare as the group of friends talked about their plans for the weekend, but it was kind of hard not to. Not when Newt would lick his lower lip like that each time he flipped the page. Not with the way he kept one long leg stretched out in front of him and the other bent just enough that he could rest the bottom of his book on his knee.

Honestly, Thomas tried to rationalize, how was anybody not expected to stare at such a pretty face tucked underneath a bit of slightly curling blonde hair, with his face all intent and his eyes darting across the page like it was the only thing in the world.

“Thomas..” He wasn't sure if it was the first time his name had been called, but he looked up at the speaker. Brenda, a knowing smirk on her face. “You know, you could always just go ask him out.”

“Nope.” Thomas cut her off, just like that. “Now, tomorrow, plans, party, what? Tell me what's happening, people.”

The change of subject seemed to be enough for the others, and though Brenda still gave him that knowing smirk the others let the new topic slide.

“Well, Minho and I are going to the couple's Halloween Masquerade.” Teresa had spoken up.

“The what?” Thomas quirked an eyebrow up at her.

“Seriously, Thomas.” Minho chuckled, reaching into his bag. He pulled out a flier and handed it to the other boy. “If you're not studying or working, you're training for track. You wouldn't know if the sun exploded around you.”

Thomas rolled his eyes, but took the flier and looked it over. The background was black and grey and purple with orange words advertising a huge costume party for the entire campus. It was being thrown by the largest sorority and frat houses on campus. And it was couples only.

“Couples only, well I'm not going.” Thomas shrugged and shoved the paper back at Minho.

“Well you don't have to actually be a relationship.” Brenda responded. “You just have to go with a partner.”

At this, Thomas gave another glance over at Newt.

“Ask Newt to go with you.” Fry spoke up.

Thomas nearly choked on air. “What?!”

The group laughed and rang out a chorus of approval at the idea until Alby actually got up, grabbed Thomas by the wrist, and dragged him over to the boy beneath the tree.

“What's up, Mate?” Newt spoke in answer to Alby calling his name. He looked up and his eyebrow tilted up at the sight of the older boy dragging Thomas up to him.

Alby all but threw Thomas onto the ground next to Newt and he landed with a heavy thud. He licked his lips, unable to look up at Newt.

“Thomas has something he wants to ask you.” Alby answered, and then turned and walked back to the rest of the group.

Thomas saw Newt mark his place in his book and sit it beside him from the edge of his eye. The blonde stared at him for a moment before he spoke. “Alright, Tommy, what's up?”

Thomas finally brought his eyes up to look at the boy, the familiar butterflies thrashing in his stomach at seeing Newt up close. He had the urge to reach up and kiss the other boy, but he didn't. That would probably be one of the stupidest things he could ever do.

“It's nothing.” He responded, after he realized that he probably needed to say something instead of just staring at Newt dumbly. “They all just got the idea that I needed to ask you to go the the masquerade party with me tomorrow. I told them it was a stupid idea, but Alby dragged me over here anyway.”

Thomas's stomach lurched, wishing he was able to read the expression Newt was giving him instead of just seeing a blank expression looking back at him. Newt's eyes darted across his face, and he gave a small smirk after a while, picking his book back up again.

“Good that.” He responded, finding his page. “It would be a bit of a stupid idea. I've already got a date.”

Thomas had never realized that a punch to the gut would hurt without having ever been actually punched. He had to remind himself to breathe for a moment, and just stared incredulously at the other boy. Newt cut his eyes sideways at Thomas, confusion on his face.

“What?”

Thomas shook his head, realizing that he'd been staring again. Fuck, he really needed to stop doing that. “It's...nothing..nothing.”

Newt's eyes narrowed for a moment. “You don't believe that I've got a date, do you?” Before Thomas could contradict the statement, Newt was speaking again with a defensive playfulness in his voice. “I will have you know, Tommy, that I'm quite an attractive guy. Boys throw themselves at me.”

Thomas couldn't help but laugh at the last statement, even with the bitterness in the back of his throat because it was true. “Yeah, yeah. Keep telling yourself that, Newt.”

Newt hit Thomas on the top of the head with his book, a grin on his face.

  
  


That was how Thomas ended up in this predicament. He sat next to Brenda at the party, who he'd only agreed to go with because she refused to let him not. She'd even picked couple's costumes for them, and she'd put a lot of thought into it, too. They were a punk rock version of Snow White and Prince Charming.

They were surrounded by all their friends in their various costumes. Minho and Teresa had done Tarzan and Jane, and Thomas was pretty sure Minho had just wanted an excuse to run around in a loin cloth. Thomas hoped to god he was wearing boxers under the thing, at least. Alby and Harriet had gone together as salt and pepper. Fry and Winston were a werewolf couple.

Thomas was about three drinks in, loosening up and starting to actually have a bit of fun when he spotted him. Newt. That familiar feeling hit Thomas, like he'd suddenly swallowed a glass of gasoline and the burn when straight to his heart. The feeling of wanting to run and hide, but at the same time the tremble in his fingers betraying how much he wanted to see the other boy.

And what Newt was wearing, Thomas couldn't tear his eyes away as the boy spotted them and started walking over. Thomas didn't think that jeans could get any tighter than the black pair the tall boy wore, complete with a tank top that showed of his slender, slightly muscular arms and the expanse of collarbone that had Thomas's mouth watering. What made the costume was the little black cape he wore, and the set of prosthetic fangs peeking from his mouth when he stopped in front of the group and smiled.

“Hey guys.” Thomas was floating on air at the sound of his friend's voice, but the rest of the boy's words dropped his heart from the heights and shattered it. “I want you to meet my date, Gally.”

Gally? Thomas knew the boy without having to look at him. He wasn't a bad guy. But thomas couldn't figure out how he was Newt's type at all. Not that he knew what Newt's type was exactly, he realized with a sinking feeling in his stomach. He'd always hoped _he_ would be Newt's type, but that wasn't it apparantly. 

Gally was a big guy, tall and muscular and intimidating. Especially dressed as a Spartan soldier. Thomas took a long gulp out of his drink, suddenly wishing there was more alcohol in it than he'd put in there. He'd need a lot more alcohol to get through this night. 

The group greeted the couple, and Alby teased that their costumes didn't go together. Gally chuckled, sitting and pulling Newt into his lap. Thomas looked away under the pretense of scratching his nose, and just never brought his eyes back up to look at Newt. He wasn't sure he could keep calm watching that. 

“Newt thought matching costumes was just cliché.” Gally responded. 

Newt laughed, swatting at Gally's arm. “Oh hush, you just didn't want to wear the cape.”

“He wanted to show off his abs for you.” Minho laughed, winking at Newt. Gally shot him a glare, but Thomas found himself finishing the last of the alcohol in his cup. 

He stood up rather abruptly, his fingers trembling against the empty red plastic in his hands. “I'm going to get another drink.” He knew his words sounded a little clipped, but how could he be expected to speak politely when his body burned so bad he couldn't  _breathe_ .

“What's his bloody problem?” He heard Newt's voice asking, and Thomas's gut wrenched at the little amount of upset he heard in the other boy's voice. 

He found himself making his way to the alcohol, grabbing a bottle of vodka. He poured some into the cup and looked at the soda, debating which one to mix with his drink. After a moment, he decided to glance back over at his friends, only to find Gally trailing his fingers through Newt's hair the way he'd always wished he could. 

Thomas had been in love with Newt for years now, and he was the only one who hadn't been able to see it. How could he not, Thomas wondered. Every time he thought back on it, it seemed like all his effort to keep Newt from finding out was pointless. It was always so painfully obvious. 

And his friends, Thomas shot a glare towards all of them. Every last one knew how much he cared for Newt, and yet they would still sit there and tease him about his new boyfriend like Thomas's feelings didn't mean a thing. 

Thomas filled the rest of his cup up with vodka and took a long gulp. He gagged at the taste, and the familiar burn. 

“Took you long enough, Tommy.” Thomas didn't think the nickname could hurt anymore than it usually did and make his heart soar at the same time. God, Thomas was so fucked up and he knew it. 

“You can't rush perfection.” The words fell easily from his mouth without even a waver in his voice. 

“I hope you're talking about the alcohol.” Brenda teased. 

Thomas grinned, pushing away the uneasiness in his stomach. He couldn't let his stupid crush or his jealousy ruin everyone else's good time. He would just have to suck it up and hide his pain behind his stupidity. 

“Well, I am pretty perfect too, so of course the drinks I make would be perfect too.” He teased. 

“God, you're such an idiot.” Brenda laughed and the rest of the group joined in, even Thomas, though his eyes were doing their best not to make contact with Newt. 

It didn't get any easier throughout the evening, with everyone going off and dancing, coming back. Thomas himself getting caught up on the dance floor for a while. All the while, his eyes kept finding Newt even as he told himself to stop looking.  _Stop, Thomas. Just stop it. You're going to kill yourself if you keep this up._ He thought to himself, tears burning in his eyes. 

He pushed the thoughts away and half stumbled through the crowd and back to his seat. He dropped down into it and grabbed his glass, downing the last bit of the vodka in it. It would have burned his throat, if it didn't already burn enough from the bile he kept forcing back each time he thought about Newt. 

Where was Newt, what was he doing, Thomas would wonder, and then push the thought from his mind because he really didn't need to keep looking for Newt when the boy was there with someone else. But where did he go, had he left the party already, he wasn't at the table. Thomas couldn't help himself feeling worried and so he'd inevitably talk himself into taking a look around the room. 

Only to find Newt nestled into a corner, backed into a wall with his arms around Gally's neck and his tongue down the other boy's throat. Thomas gagged, coughing. Fry, or Alby, or maybe that was Teresa, was there, patting him on the back. 

“Christ, how much vodka have you had?” He still couldn't tell whose voice it was. 

“Not enough.” He grumbled, looking up at the person. Girl, definitely a girl. He couldn't remember which one. 

The girl rolled her eyes at him, about to say something, but she stopped. Her eyes widened in shock, and then recognition, and then she looked down at Thomas with an expression of just pure pity. It made fire burn in Thomas's stomach and tears sting at his eyes. He knew what she'd seen. 

“Shut up.” He grumbled. 

“Thomas...” Her voice sounded worried. 

Thomas stood up, not really meaning to push the girl, whoever she was, down. He just stumbled and knocked her into one of the seats. He took a moment to orient himself to being standing. He really wasn't that drunk, he told himself. He was just overwhelmed and needed some fresh air. And to not see Newt making out with someone else. 

“I'm leaving.” He stated, turning and walking out of the building. 

The crisp night air stung against his face, and Thomas realized as he stumbled away from the party, that he was crying.  _Oh, fucking great._ He wiped at the tears, but more seemed to replace them. His eyes burned like his throat and his lungs. Air wasn't coming easy, and he honestly wasn't this drunk. 

The sound of rushing water filled his ears, blocking out the sounds of his broken, still beating heart. He followed the sounds to a water fountain, falling down onto the seat of it, looking at his reflection in the water. He was a mess. 

His eyes were bloodshot, his face was red and his face was slack, despite his attempts to look sober, he looked anything but. In fact, he looked pretty ridiculous in all the leather with the plastic crown sat atop his head. He took the thing off and played with it in his hands as he thought about, well, everything. 

This could have been prevented, he thought. He had known about the party months ago and he could have asked Newt back then, before he'd forgotten about it. He could have confessed years ago when he'd first realized his crush on the other boy, back when they were still in high school and Thomas had just moved into the city. Newt should have just agreed to go with Thomas and told Gally to shuck off. 

Thomas nodded at the idea of that. Newt should have been there with him, not some klunk-faced shank from the Bergs. Thomas had no reason to have an issue with anyone from the Bergs, the district across town where he used to live, with a reputation for bad boys and criminal activity. It wasn't really that bad, Thomas just wanted something to complain about in his head. 

At least if he was complaining, he wasn't focusing on how hard breathing had become, or the empty hole in his chest that seemed to be ever caving in on itself, taking with it everything that Thomas had ever cared about. He needed more alcohol to numb the pain, but he wasn't going to go back into the party and get some. He couldn't see....

He growled, throwing the plastic crown to the ground in frustration and grabbing at his short brown hair, trying to pull it out by the roots. He needed a distraction, any kind of a distraction. Anything to get his mind off that image, seared into it. 

“Tommy?” The voice sent a chill through his spine, making his mouth water and his fingers tremble. “Tommy, are you...are you alright, Mate?”

Thomas hated the caring tone he heard in the other boy's voice.  _If you're going to break my heart, at least have the decency not to be nice about it..._

“I'm fine.” The words came out clipped, a little slurred. 

“Brenda said that you got pissed off for no reason and stormed out of the party...” The voice was closer than it had been last time. Thomas looked up to find that Newt had sat down beside him, looking at him with concern evident on his features. 

“M'fine.” Thomas muttered, dropping his head into his hands. “Just....drank too much.” It wasn't entirely a lie. “Needed to get some air.”

“You sure nothing else is bothering you?” Newt asked, chewing his lower lip. Thomas found himself staring at that lip, wanting to taste it himself. He almost leaned in and did just that, but Newt was speaking again. “The others....seem to think that you're...mad that I came with Gally.”

Thomas stared blankly at Newt when he said that, and then shook his head for a moment. “Of course I'm not mad. I'm glad that you found a date.”

Even drunk, Thomas could tell that Newt didn't believe him, so he spoke again. “I'm happy for you, Newt. Really, I am. I've just been stressed out about...school and stuff.” It wasn't a very convincing lie. 

Newt looked at Thomas for a while, studying his face, trying to decide whether or not he should believe Thomas or not. “So, you're not jealous that I came with Gally instead of you?”

Thomas shook his head, “Of course not. I'm happy that you're having a great time with Gally. He's a great guy.”

Newt looked down, then, and Thomas's heart sank. He knew from the boy's expression that he wasn't going to like what Newt had to say. “I'm glad you don't hate Gally cause...he just asked me to be his boyfriend and I said yes.”

Thomas froze, his blood running cold. It felt like his entire world had stopped in that moment and the walls had come crashing down upon him. It wasn't like it was the first time Newt had ever been in a relationship, and it wasn't the first time that Thomas had been jealous about it. It probably wouldn't be the last, Thomas resigned. 

“That's...that's great. Yeah, Great.” Thomas shuddered off the shock and nodded. “Good that.”

Newt suddenly grinned from ear to ear. “Since you're alright, Tommy, I'm going to go ahead and head out. Gally wants to take me somewhere else before the night's over.”

Thomas nodded, not even watching as Newt jumped up and disappeared into the distance. His mind had just shut down and wasn't working. Everything hurt, and he didn't know what to do, and he was drunk and alone and Newt was gone. Newt was gone. 

Somehow, Thomas had always known that Newt didn't love him. Would never love him. He wasn't Newt's type, and they would never be more than just friends. Thinking about it only made it hurt more, and Thomas cursed himself. He should have told Newt that he was jealous. He should have told Newt that Gally was bad news. He should have told the boy that he was upset because he wanted to be the one holding Newt's hand, he wanted to be the one with his arms wrapped around Newt as they danced, kissed. 

Thomas fell backwards, making a splash in the fountain. The water was so shallow that it barely came up past his ears with his back resting flat on the bottom of the shallow pool, but it was ice cold and it numbed the burning hatred Thomas had for himself, just a little bit. 

“I'd have worn the cape...” He muttered to himself, and it was the last thing he remembered before passing out. 

He'd woken up the next day in Minho's living room, on the couch, with a nasty hangover and an even nastier cold.

 


End file.
